


A Patchwork Family Tree

by Rin_the_Shadow



Series: In Your Own Words [5]
Category: Dororo (Anime 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crying, Discussion of Ableism, Eating Together, Families of Choice, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Platonic Cuddling, Reconciliation, Reunions, because i can't seem to avoid putting a little of that in, cw: mentions of past attempted suicide, learning about each other, possible PTSD, possible depression, possible internalized ableism, will probably be more comfort than hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2020-04-07 02:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19075567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rin_the_Shadow/pseuds/Rin_the_Shadow
Summary: When Hyakkimaru decides to return home for a bit, Dororo and Tahomaru accompany him. Perhaps it should be as straightforward as that, but even the simplest fabrics are woven of many threads.





	1. Retracing Old Paths

“Hey,” Dororo called, huffing as he sprinted to catch up. “Don’t go running off like that, okay? Or at least offer to carry me first, yeah?”

“ _I_ offered to carry you,” Tahomaru protested, somewhat less winded than the kid, but still a bit out of breath from running after his elder brother. It still surprised him a bit that he could sprint like that for the lengths he did and still be able to walk afterwards. 

Dororo pouted, folding his arms. “Yeah, but you’ve never _run_ with me before,” he returned, as if his slight frame could actually have added that much to anyone’s load. And of course, Tahomaru let him know as much, which made him squawk in protest. He was _not_ that tiny, he’d have him know!

He had latched onto him, and was about to climb up him to prove his point when they realized Hyakkimaru hadn’t been listening, instead surveying back and forth between the horizon and something in the trees. They watched, tracking his motion until Dororo tugged his sleeve.

“What’s up, bro? You see something?”

“Hm,” he hummed in response, tracing his hand over a tree, then turning and weaving through a different path than the one in front of them. Dororo and Tahomaru spared each other a glance before following him.

His path didn’t always make sense to them, but they knew where he was going. He had told them before they’d set out, “Go home. See Mama.” He’d paused, forcing his hands still before continuing. “You don’t have to come.”

“Are you _kidding?_ ” Dororo had cried, bouncing on his heels. “No way I’m gonna pass up something like that! I’ve got so many stories to tell her about you—oh, unless you don’t want me to come?”

“No,” he’d watched them, expression as unreadable as in the earliest days. “You can come.” Another pause. “Tahomaru, too?”

A series of emotions had surged through him just then, and he’d felt himself struggling to keep the muscles in his face from giving away too much, even if his elder brother couldn’t see his expression. “Of course. What would you expect me to do otherwise?”

It was with no small amusement that he had watched Hyakkimaru’s eyebrows lower and his face scrunch up as if he were actually considering it. Someday, he would have to explain that not all questions needed an answer.

In the present moment, they heard the low murmuring of voices nearby. Ah, so he must have wanted to avoid the crowd. It didn’t seem that bad, compared to some of what they had walked through, but then again, if he had memories of this place, there were bound to be things he’d want to avoid.

“You must know a lot of hidden paths like this,” Tahomaru mused aloud.

“Mm,” he nodded in response. “Show you sometime.”

They walked a little farther, until they had reached the base of a small hill, before any of them spoke again.

“Hey, bro, how come you decided you wanted to see your mama now?”

Hyakkimaru stopped, his back to them as he hesitated over the words. Finally, he settled on, “Don’t know.”

“You don’t know why you wanted to go home or you don’t know how to say it?” Dororo insisted. “’Cause I can help you if you need words. So which is it?”

For a moment, it almost looked like he was going to answer, but then his head turned sharply.

“What is it, bro?”

“Is something there?” Tahomaru moved to grab the younger boy, ready to pull him away if it was a demon.

Hyakkimaru made no attempt to answer them, moving past them as if transfixed on something. A few paces later, he broke into a run.

“Bro!” Dororo cried out.

“Hyakkimaru!” Tahomaru scooped him up before he could protest, running as fast as he could in the direction his elder brother had gone.

The angle made it difficult to run while carrying him, but he managed to catch them up just in time to see Hyakkimaru veer off the path, dashing out into the field and launching himself at a large figure, who promptly dropped nearly everything he’d been carrying. His first thought was a sharp spike of worry—was this a new kind of demon?

But then the man opened his arms to catch him, his stance making him look far more like a bear than any human ought to have. The boys heard a strangled-sounding cry, “Hyakkimaru!” which only seemed to spur him even more. He threw himself against the man with such force he nearly ploughed him over, forcing him to turn to avoid losing his balance. And his brothers could only gawk as a man nearly twice his size struggled to right them, looking almost like a father twirling his child around.

“Slow down, Hyakkimaru! Slow down! Give me a moment to look at you,” he laughed, trying to peel the boy off of him, and only succeeding for a moment before he practically leaped up to pull their foreheads together, nestling almost frantically against him before the man returned the gesture, running a hand over his hair to calm him. Then he gasped, “Is this…skin? Hyakkimaru, you have skin now?”

He ran a hand over his face and neck. “You’re not wearing your bandages…This isn’t your mask, either…this is your _skin_!”

And Hyakkimaru might have tried to reply, but the only sounds that came from him were choked whimpers and the fragmented pieces of a phrase Dororo had taught him before they’d set out, but which came out sounding more like, “H-home, _home, home, home, Mama_. Home, _I’m_ …I’m home. _I’m home._ ”

“You can talk? You’ve gotten your voice?” he continued, pouring out words of encouragement to say more, but only getting more of the previous phrases in reply, faster and faster and faster each time as he latched on and hugged the man even tighter than before.

And maybe he shouldn’t have stared. No, he _knew_ he shouldn’t have stared. His cheeks burned and he knew he was intruding on something immensely private, and it was probably wrong for either of them to have come in the first place except that his brother said he wanted him to. But something about the way he’d pictured this and the way it was happening…Tahomaru felt something click in his mind, something which he felt he should have put together long before this moment, and wondered how in the world he had managed to miss it before. Dororo had squirmed free from his grip. He brushed himself off as he watched, shifting on his feet and picking at his arm. He wondered if it clicked for him, too, or if he had figured it out before.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, large fingers came up, scrubbing gently at the teen’s cheeks as he mimicked the motion in return. Then, Hyakkimaru took his hands, pulling him towards them.

They turned to the pair, their faces wet and the man’s eyes still shining.

“These, my bro—These _are_ my brothers,” he spoke, brow pinching as he remembered the practiced words. “Dororo, Tahomaru.” He pointed as he indicated them. Then he reached back towards the large bearded man and smiled wider than they had ever seen from him. “This. Is Mama.”

In that moment, Dororo had spoken for both of them. “What?”

But the man hadn’t seemed bothered by the slip. Instead, he simply laid a hand over Hyakkimaru’s shoulder with a chuckle of, “Silly you, that’s not what I am,” which was almost too soft for any of them to hear, but which made Hyakkimaru’s brow twitch and his lips purse in an expression they had all seen many times before. He might have even argued the point, had the man not simply pulled him in once more, a quick embrace before he led them back to his home, Hyakkimaru trailing behind as Dororo usually did for him.

A fallen sign near the door, words nearly worn away from years of weathering, told him the man’s name was Jukai. The rest of the words were too scratched and faded to make out, but Tahomaru could guess. The kinds of tools he had, the amount of wooden limbs stored inside, the condition he kept the place in, the fact that he’d apparently somehow kept his brother alive before he had _skin_ , of all things? He must have been a doctor, and a skilled one at that.

And it seemed as though he was about to ask them something, when Dororo’s stomach growled as if in protest. Blushing bright red, the boy folded his arms over his midsection, stammering out a stilted apology which Jukai almost immediately waved off. “The three of you must have traveled quite a ways. I’m afraid I don’t have much, but I can certainly offer you a meal.”

Dororo, of course, had taken very little persuasion to accept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I had hoped to finish the entire story before posting, I really wanted to get one last crack at everything before episode 21 got out. While I would love something like the kinds of AUs people here make with them, I have a sneaking suspicion we're going to have to settle for something like what happens in Blood Will Tell, but with much less audience sympathy for Daigo.
> 
> I've had bits and pieces of this one churning around in my head since I finished Your Place in the Group and altered the dialogue at the end to include the reference to episode 17, but I wasn't entirely sure of what I wanted it to be until I started writing last Wednesday. And to be honest, I will probably continue to tweak my word choices and sentence structures as I go.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	2. Revisiting Old Memories

Hyakkimaru, much to Jukai’s surprise, had offered to help prepare the meal, though it had taken him a moment to understand what “Help you, me. I want” meant. Had this been something he had picked up while traveling? Jukai spared a look to his wooden hands and knew that letting him near the burning pot would be a terrible idea, but there was no reason not to have him in the room. And so when Tahomaru had hastily pulled Dororo outside, he had allowed his son to hang back.

He had expected it wouldn’t be any different than when Hyakkimaru was a small boy, and had hovered about. Perhaps he had watched the motions of his hands with that unusual sight he possessed? They worked in near silence for some time, Hyakkimaru watching as Jukai cut the vegetables in a steady rhythm. It would take a bit more, now that he had three other mouths to feed, but if he decreased his own portion, it would be enough for the time being. He had considered himself lucky to have obtained some radishes, but perhaps there was more to it. His son and his new brothers had arrived so soon after…

When he neared the end of it, he wiped his brow. “The water in the pot should be just about warm enough,” he mused. “It should be ready to add these in. Why don’t you go ahead and call—”

Before he could finish, Hyakkimaru had scooped the vegetables into his hands and carried them over. Jukai’s heart pounded as he rushed to stop him, but once his son had reached the flames, he paused, shifting as if he was imitating something, and then carefully dropped the vegetables into the water. Several bounced off the rim and fell to the ground. For a moment, Jukai thought he might pick them up, but he simply stepped back, looking to his papa. “Need this,” he said, pointing to the fallen vegetables lying just the slightest bit too close to the fire for comfort. “Help me?”

Instead of picking them up, however, Jukai pressed a hand to his chest, as if it could stifle his worry. “Hyakkimaru, don’t scare me like that.”

The boy’s head tilted the slightest bit, eyebrows raised in question. It was so strange to see him emoting, no longer hidden behind his old mask. “How? I scared you?”

_How did I scare you?_ It might have taken him longer to process his son’s question if the situation hadn’t made it so obvious. “Because I thought you were going to reach into the fire! Don’t you remember how you were as a child?”

A part of him doubted he would. After all, he had not been able to feel the flames licking at his prosthetic hands and feet. He hadn’t even seemed to notice when his arm caught fire, and if he had, he certainly hadn’t understood why he should be alarmed. When Jukai had thrown him to the ground and beaten the flames off of him, he hadn’t even flinched, and for a moment, he’d thought he had somehow managed to kill him. But when Hyakkimaru sat up as if nothing was wrong not a minute later, he had realized the boy hadn’t been able to feel pain, either. Jukai had tried to explain it to him later, but he was never certain how much he connected it to that experience. After all, what kind of memory would he make of something he had no concept for?

But Hyakkimaru looked thoughtful for a moment, stepping further away from the pot. Then he lowered his head the slightest bit. “Ah. Yes. I remember,” he nodded. “But. I feel hot, now. Pain, too.” He pointed towards the fire, mouth pressed into a line that clearly read, _Don’t touch._

“Do you?” Jukai took a step closer, leading him just a bit farther away, checking his hands and sparing a glance to his prosthetic foot just to be safe. Even if he could feel pain and would try to avoid the fire, it still made him feel better not to have him so close to it.

“Mm,” he nodded again. “Sometimes, I forget. Tahomaru, Dororo…Tahomaru _and_ Dororo remind me. Help with fire. Hold, like this.”

He started to step behind his father, but then paused and changed his mind, placing himself in front of him instead. “My brothers,” he explained, pointing back to him. Jukai let him take his hands and maneuver them over his own, holding them close together and tilting forward as if they were cooking something over a fire.

“Ah, I see. So they have been helping you learn,” he smiled, unable to stop the relief from creeping into his voice. There had been so many nights where he’d lie awake fretting that he had done something terrible in sending his son back out into hell. And not just the fact that he had taught him to kill, though that was certainly a part of it.

There were some things he had been able to teach him before he had gone—how to change his own bandages, how to find food and shelter, how to fight an opponent without killing him, if he was attacked. But some concepts were harder to translate into Hyakkimaru’s language—how to avoid the samurai battles and skirmishes, how to seek help if he was injured or sick.

Others still were all but impossible, ideas like pain, sound, things which he had nothing to compare to, or how to take care of himself as he adjusted to each new part he regained—and many things besides that. Suppose he let himself freeze to death or collapse from heatstroke, simply because he had no means of knowing it was a risk? And that didn’t even _begin_ to cover the kinds of dangers he might face from other people, even with a sixth sense to guide him. It wasn’t perfect, after all. It had never given his son any warning about _him_.

Some nights, he had even thought to seek him out and bring him back, if he had any right to do so. When he’d sent him to go out and retrieve the rest of his body, he hadn’t even asked if he’d _wanted_ to go, merely taking his lack of response as an understanding that he must. But in the end, he had to accept that his boy was not a child anymore, and he would have to trust that he would be able to retrieve his body and return—or choose not to.

But as Hyakkimaru trailed beside him, tugging his arms and occasionally demonstrating for himself what he had learned from the two he’d picked up along the way, he could practically feel these worries melting off of him. They would never dissipate entirely, of course—but how could he see such enthusiasm from that boy for something— _anything_ —that wasn’t all survival and killing, and wonder if it was right? 

Even so, a bitter reminder crept up, it didn’t change the realities of their world. “Of course, I’m certain that’s not all that’s happened along the way. What else have you encountered?”

Something dark passed over Hyakkimaru’s face just then, visible for only a second before he hid it. Then he turned and pointed to the fallen vegetables. “Need this. Can’t touch, hot. Fire.” Tapping his own wooden hands, “No good.”

Ah, so there was something else, he thought as he moved to pick them up. Of course, he had known the era wouldn’t leave his son unscathed, as much as he might have wished it. “What hap—”

“I’ll call my brothers.” Hyakkimaru was already halfway outside, and disappeared before he could finish the question.

Jukai stopped, raising a brow. Now where had his son learned that?

* * *

As they started their meal in silence, Tahomaru took in the sight before him. Dororo beside him, Jukai opposite, and Hyakkimaru at his side, all kneeling around a low table. And then there was the food. Some millet, soup of vegetables—largely supplemented with radishes—and small portions of natto. It was funny, he thought. He had hated the smell in his childhood, yet now it was almost welcome to him. Dororo grimaced as he chewed and shoved it down, saving the vegetables for last, while Hyakkimaru seemed utterly fascinated with the taste and texture, holding it in his mouth just a bit too long before swallowing.

Jukai, on the other hand, was far more contemplative, and he couldn’t help wondering what they might have discussed before Hyakkimaru had come to retrieve them. While he may have lacked his brother’s gift at reading people, he could have sworn he’d hovered somewhere between warmth and apprehension.

“Hyakkimaru called you his brothers several times as he was helping me earlier. If you don’t mind my intrusion, how did you come to know my son?”

Tahomaru felt he did an excellent job managing not to choke on his food just then, though Hyakkimaru still paused mid-bite to look at him.

“I conned a bunch of thugs, and they chased me into a river and tried to drown me,” Dororo mercifully cut in, sounding a bit too chipper for what he was describing. “Then a big demon came and they got eaten, but big bro saved me, and then his face fell off and he grew skin and I decided to stick around. And it’s a good thing, too! Big bro would be _completely_ lost without me! You know he would’ve eaten raw fish if I hadn’t stopped him?”

“Once,” a low murmur came from his brother.

“Oh, is that so?” Jukai’s smile told him there was yet another story behind that, on top of whatever Dororo had saved up.

“ _Once._ ” If he didn’t know better, Tahomaru would have sworn he was blushing.

“You fed me a bug once,” he offered, feeling some bizarre responsibility to deflect at least some of it, even though it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru couldn’t take a little ribbing.

“Yeah, sure,” Dororo continued, waving him off. “Oh, but…I guess we wouldn’t have gotten to eat them at all if he hadn’t caught them for me.”

“Tch,” Tahomaru gave a half-hearted scoff. “So you’re saying you basically followed our elder brother around for food.”

An elbow jabbed into his side, carefully hidden from Jukai’s view. “I did _not_! Like I said, he’d be completely lost without me! And besides…” He hunched forward, mumbling something into a mouthful of natto before swallowing more aggressively than any human child should have been able. 

“I see.” What exactly he had been able to make of that statement was anyone’s guess. “And you, Tahomaru?”

But of course. Why should he have expected to escape so easily? His throat felt dry despite the stew he had swallowed. It shouldn’t have been such an issue.

“It’s not much different than Dororo, except that I come from Daigo Kagemitsu’s territory,” he answered, hoping he sounded less light-headed than he felt. It was so strange to say his name instead of calling him father. “Some of the locals and I were trying to stop a crab monster which had been eating the fishermen whenever they went out on the lake. I underestimated the creature’s intelligence, and Hyakkimaru saved a friend of mine from being eaten. Some time later, I decided to join him.” He felt a wry grin twisting at his lip. “Since he seems to find demons wherever he goes, I thought I might learn to stop them by watching him. And see how other territories handle them."

It wasn’t a lie. Nothing he had said was untrue. And it wasn’t as though there were many details he wanted to hide, just a few facts that weren’t needed to understand what happened. It wasn’t a lie, just that some events were better off forgotten. At least, until he could control his reactions to certain memories. 

Jukai studied his expression, and he had to fight the urge to look away. “I was under the impression Daigo Kagemitsu’s territory hadn’t seen much of the demons these past few years.” There was no accusation, no reproach in his voice, yet Tahomaru was certain he had cut right through him.

“Much more of them than you might think,” he answered, keeping his voice even. “They were said to have been sealed, but I wonder how much of that is actually true.”

Beside him, Hyakkimaru stiffened, and he wished he could reach for him without it looking too obvious, explain that he understood it wasn’t the case, if that was what had startled him. Luckily, Jukai seemed to notice, and he ran a careful hand over his son’s shoulder. For now, it seemed to be enough. Hyakkimaru shifted just the slightest bit to press into the touch. Would he continue to press the subject, now?

“I suppose that’s the era we live in,” he spoke, more to himself than to any of the others.

There was no way to respond to that. It wasn’t false, he supposed, but he had no way of responding without giving himself away. Which of course, begged the question of just _why_ it needed to be kept hidden. It wasn’t as though he wanted to cut himself off entirely from them, or from the responsibility to his people. That was what had brought him here, wasn’t it?

There was a twinge in his eye and he nearly stiffened until he felt Dororo shifting beside him. “I guess, but do we gotta focus on all that right now? I finally got to meet my big bro’s papa—isn’t this the part where we trade embarrassing baby stories and stuff? I mean, I don’t have any baby stories, but I got a few that are pretty funny.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Hyakkimaru’s murmured correction of “mama” as Dororo covertly rested a hand on Tahomaru’s knee, peeking up at him from the corner of his eye. The kid had known exactly what he was doing.

From the look on his face, he could tell Jukai wasn’t fooled in the slightest, but he smiled, looking almost apologetically, first to him, and then to his son, before chuckling to himself. “Oh, I think when you become a parent, you find many of those stories become more frightening than amusing, but I’m sure I can think of a few…”

* * *

 

Apparently, Hyakkimaru had loved crabs quite a bit when he was younger, whether it was playing with the shells, or plucking them right out of the river and trying to gnaw on them.

“Now that I think about it, there were quite a few things he would try to gnaw on,” Jukai mused, turning to him. “Though I don’t recall you trying to eat all of them. Was it because you could feel things that way? I wonder why I hadn’t thought of it before.”

Hyakkimaru had only shrugged in reply, and Tahomaru had to wonder how much of the stories he remembered, or how much made sense to him with words attached. Dororo, of course, had loved the stories about the crab, and not just the ones where he had tried to eat them and gotten his mask pinched.

When Jukai had worked, he had often let Hyakkimaru play by the water. On more than one occasion, he had come running up, tugging on his sleeve and holding out something for him to see—a stick covered in creatures, small fish cupped in his hands, and of course, crabs as well.

It was strange, hearing all this about someone he should have grown up with, but who had remained unknown to him until recently. He’d known he had to have been a child at _some_ point, of course—he hadn’t just popped up one day and started slaying demons. He’d even talked about it _himself_ at some points, when he’d do something they couldn’t remember teaching him, that they’d never seen him taking the time to sort out.

And yet, the idea of his elder brother as a child sounded more like a fairy tale than the story of his father sealing the demons, he thought as he watched Hyakkimaru taking in the stories, searching for any sign of that child in the brother before him.

Hyakkimaru shifted, pressing his forehead into Jukai’s shoulder. Yes, he supposed he almost saw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And because I have apparently decided not to sleep tonight, have a second one. 
> 
> My original concept of this was that it would be a single fic, but then of course, as has tended to happen for the past few weeks, my brain decided to keep crapping out ideas for scenes I could do, and this time, I figured, sure, why not. 
> 
> This was the other "big scene" I wanted to do originally, and required a bit of research to depict the food eaten, but I'm glad to have had a reason to look into it. Heh, apparently, this is what happens when you like to watch Miyazaki movies while you write.
> 
> (Sorry Jukai, gotta agree with Hyakki here. You're Mama.)
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	3. Reopening Old Wounds

Dororo had a bit of a rough night, that night. He wasn’t entirely sure what caused it but Tahomaru had awakened at one point to find Hyakkimaru holding the child in his lap, rocking him back and forth and stroking a hand along his back. Not wanting to disturb their host, he’d dragged himself up a little closer, stretching out a hand towards his brother’s shoulder, and then pointing to Dororo. He hesitated for a moment, and then reached until his hand pressed against his cheek, letting his thumb brush the corner of his lip so he could feel his expression in the dark.

A few seconds later, a smile pushed against his finger and his head lowered, nodding once before turning and continuing to rock them. He'd meant that he could hold him for a bit, but if Hyakkimaru felt like he was fine where he was, then...

He couldn’t remember drifting off, but when Tahomaru opened his eyes, he saw that Jukai had already set out. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon, just enough not to need a lamp to see. Most things were still in shadow, the early morning light bathing everything in a kind of soft, sad glow. It always made him feel like he was reaching for something he’d lost, that he could never quite remember.

Sometimes, he wondered if the others could feel it, too.

Hyakkimaru would already be awake, he thought, and with Dororo’s night having been a difficult one, he would probably be carrying him around on his hip, whether the kid was awake or not.

Forcing himself to turn over and sit up, Tahomaru startled at the sight his brother slumped over, still holding onto Dororo, who had tucked his head into the older boy’s neck, rising and falling with his breathing. At some point, Jukai must have noticed and draped one of the blankets over them. Of course he would. This was his son.

No, he clenched his teeth. He was not about to go down that road again.

Still, he thought, it wasn’t like Hyakkimaru not to be the first one up. Even if he’d completely exhausted himself before going to bed, the mornings always turned him into a light sleeper. Once he’d decided to wake up, coaxing him back to sleep was all but impossible. Perhaps Jukai would have known a trick or two to lull him, but that shouldn’t have stopped him from rousing as Tahomaru awoke.

It must have been a really difficult night for Dororo, if he had to stay up with him so long. He really wished he knew what had set him off.

Pushing himself to his feet, he added his blanket to the one already over them, carefully wedging the end between Hyakkimaru's shoulder and the wall to keep it from falling. And then he stepped outside. If nothing else, he could use a little time to clear his head before the day began.

* * *

He found Jukai not long after. As it turned out, he had gone to draw some water, and upon returning, he had begun to carve at some wood. Perhaps it would become a leg, Tahomaru thought. It certainly seemed long enough. Though wouldn’t he still end up cutting it in multiple pieces to make the joints?

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Tahomaru forced his gaze back out over the horizon. If Jukai had truly seen through him last night, it _really_ wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right then. Once his brother woke up, he would almost certainly have some kind of work for them to do, and then he would be able to avoid any further discussion by immersing himself in it. Putting Hyakkimaru between them as a distraction probably wouldn’t hurt, either.

So naturally, his hopes were dashed mere seconds later when a voice called, “Ah, Tahomaru. I hope my work didn’t disturb you. Did you sleep well?”

It took a moment for the question to register. Hm. He supposed he’d gotten used to silent mornings. At least until Dororo woke up. Even then, it was tempting not to reply. “This is normal for me. My brothers would normally be up by now as well.”

At least, Hyakkimaru would be. And it would really be better if he was  _now_. 

“That’s true. I suppose you would be used to having plenty to get done in a day.”

Had he really seen right through him so easily, or was he simply reading into things? There was nothing in that which was even the slightest bit unusual to say, he told himself. Everyone worked. Everyone had plenty to get done. Unless he was testing to see if he would contradict him? Not that he would have, since he _had_ done plenty even before the issue with that monster. Still, it was better safe than sorry.

“You as well,” he deflected. “I’d imagine there are plenty of injuries that keep you busy.” Then he paused, thinking about the path that led them here. “Though, if someone had lost their leg, I can’t imagine it being easy for them to get to you from the village. Is there someone who brings them here, or…?”

Something shifted in Jukai’s expression just then, almost too slight to perceive. “Ah, no. In most cases, I go to my patients.”

Naturally, he thought. Someone who would pull his infant brother from a stream wouldn’t simply sit around waiting for the injured to come to him.

It was an admirable practice. Why then, was there a note of shame in his voice? Perhaps he had recently lost someone because he couldn’t get to them in time? But it wouldn’t have made a difference even if they had come to him, if their condition was that bad when he arrived.

Of course, even he knew better than to say that out loud. Instead, he simply nodded. It wasn’t sufficient to convey his meaning, but it was the only response he found remotely appropriate.

Perhaps they should have remained this way. It wasn’t precisely a comfortable silence, and Tahomaru couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he had done something wrong, although he wasn’t sure just what he had said that was so terrible. Perhaps he should take comfort in the fact that Jukai didn’t seem to fault him for whatever he had said. Enduring the silence had to be better than talking himself into a corner.

Even so, he could feel his thoughts beginning to race. He had known better than to come along, that it would stir things up, but he’d let his stupid curiosity get the better of him and he hadn’t wanted them to think he didn’t want to be part of the group and why in the world had he not simply made himself go back to sleep when he’d seen that his brothers weren’t up—

“Tahomaru, are you all right? Is your eye hurting you?” A concerned voice cut through his thoughts, and he jerked away from the tentative hand reaching towards him. Just because Hyakkimaru had forgiven him the time he’d hit him, it didn’t mean it was a good idea to see if his father would be equally forgiving.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been pressing his hand against his eye, and he felt a dull ache as he forced it away. It hadn’t even had anything to do with his eye, he thought as he walked himself through a breathing exercise from his sword training. Then again, most of the time, he wasn't sure what he'd been doing to make it hurt. It wasn't anything new.

“It’s nothing. It’s an old injury. It just…” Tahomaru broke off.  _Breathe in, hold, exhale._  

At least Jukai let him sort his breathing out before he asked any questions. And he’d caught it before he could go all the way. Not that he wouldn’t want an explanation for it regardless, but this way he could still pretend to have some dignity.

“If you need me to, I could look at it for you.” The offer came hesitantly, as if he really was a bear that was just as likely to break him as help. “If it wasn’t treated properly before, that might be part of the trouble.”

“I…received attention for it before.” This was already getting dangerously close to things he had really hadn’t wanted to discuss. If Jukai pushed the conversation now, he didn’t think he would be able to think of a way to sway it. And maybe it would have been a good idea to let him check his eye, but he was almost certain he would panic if he tried it.

But to his surprise, Jukai merely sat down next to him, thankfully not reaching for him. It was one thing when Hyakkimaru tried; it would have been another entirely for someone he barely knew to do the same. Even if it was his brother’s father. After a moment, he spoke, eyes carefully trained at some point in the distance.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Tahomaru.” For a moment, it seemed like he might offer some sage advice, some morsel of his own experience. But he said nothing more.

In the oddest way, he supposed he was grateful for that. “Your son didn’t seem to think so, either,” he answered in spite of himself.

Something flickered across Jukai’s expression just then. “He told you that?”

“Not in words.” Tahomaru couldn’t help the shaky laugh that brushed through him. “Though I’m sure you understand that.”

He jumped at the hearty laugh that shook through the man. He really did look like a bear sometimes. “Ah, forgive me,” he wiped his eyes. “But I hadn’t expected to hear that from someone else.”

“No?”

“No,” he shook his head, a resigned sadness creeping into his face. “No, I’m afraid Hyakkimaru is often…He is not well understood, most of the time. Not around here, at least. People expect you to communicate in their language, and since he’s been unable to do so most of his life…”

Tahomaru scowled, the situation beginning to sound all-too-familiar.

“Ah,” Jukai must have noticed his expression. “I had hoped it would lessen with time.”

“It has…some of it has been better.” Even Tahomaru could tell how forced it sounded. “Dororo says there have been people who didn’t mind so much.”

“And of course, that includes you and Dororo," he said, smiling just the slightest bit wider than Hyakkimaru would have. "I really am glad the two of you have been with him.”

There was so much more in that than what he had spoken, and Tahomaru shifted a bit, wondering if this was how the kid felt, when people talked to him this way. “It isn’t as though he’s the only one getting anything out of this.” And if that wasn’t something Dororo would have said, he didn’t know what was.

“Of course, your friend and the monster,” Jukai nodded as if knowing the reminder was unnecessary. Oh, no. He could already see where this was going. “Though I was a bit curious as to how the news of it came to you, specifically. Pardon my assumption, but you don’t seem like a fisherman. You speak just a bit too formally at times, and I’ve traveled enough in my time to know that most people won’t solicit help from just anyone. Not unless you seem like someone they can expect it from. And even then—”

“People have asked Hyakkimaru and Dororo…” The words forced their way out, feeling raw against his throat. He’d been expecting it, but he hadn’t thought he’d be quite so direct. “Dororo…sometimes gets money for food that way…”

It wasn’t a lie. It _wasn’t_ a lie. But it _sounded_ like one, if for no other reason, because it wasn’t an answer to the actual question. Damn. He shouldn’t have let his guard down. He should have said he overheard people asking some of the soldiers for help, and stepped in. That would have been just as true, and it would have given him a convenient excuse. But now he’d waited and so _that_ would sound like a lie, too. Simply because he wouldn’t shame him, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t want to know, and Tahomaru had led the conversation right in that direction, hadn’t he?

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he repeated his earlier words. “Whatever happened before—”

“You should ask your son if you want to know.” At least he hadn’t sounded peevish as he answered him. Still, he didn’t trust himself not to get to that point, so he stood. “I’m sorry,” he forced himself to say.

“That isn’t what I—” Jukai called to his retreating frame.

Maybe not, but he really couldn’t do this right now. As he walked away, he brushed past Hyakkimaru, shifting just in time to avoid clipping his shoulder. He thought he saw him turn and look as he passed, the barest hint of concern on his face.

“Ah, wait up, bro! You gotta give him a minute sometimes, remember?” A still-drowsy voice called after him. “Okay? You can go after in just a minute.”

* * *

Hyakkimaru stared after for a minute more, watching his younger brother's aura slump against one of the walls. Even as he watched, Dororo led him over to where his mom—Jukai? Was that what they said his name was?—had stood. He heard him sigh and felt the shift in his aura as he pressed a hand to his face. He’d been trying to hide it, but Tahomaru had been upset when he’d passed—and he got the same sense from him.

“Dororo,” he greeted calmly, even though it didn’t match his aura. “I see you’re feeling better.”

Beside him, Dororo tugged against him as he shifted, knocking his arm against his hip just a bit. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t that bad. Stupid dreams and stuff. Um…”

He suddenly turned and pushed Hyakkimaru towards him, making him stumble only because he hadn’t expected it. “I’m gonna go check on Tahomaru. Keep bro busy for me, okay?”

And he scampered off before either of them could protest. Which was a bit odd. Hadn’t he said to give him a minute first?

There was an exhausted sigh. “Ah, I’ve really put my foot in my mouth this time, haven’t I?” he said, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to anyone else.

It was a strange thing to say when he clearly hadn’t done anything like that. But maybe this was one of those things Dororo and Tahomaru had told him about, where people said things they didn’t really mean? It didn’t make sense to say them if that was the case.

Still, he recognized that kind of flicker—dull, retreating into itself. He had never known why, but that familiar soul had taken on that tone many times throughout his life. And so he did what he had done when he had noticed it before, reaching towards him until one hand brushed his cheek, and leaning his forehead against his chest. He’d always been just the slightest bit too short to bring his forehead to him without jumping to reach. So he waited until he reached back, lifting his chin as he brought his head down to meet him.

“Mama,” he murmured, nuzzling against him.

“Ah, you still think that, you silly boy,” he chuckled, running a hand over his shoulder once before releasing him.

Hyakkimaru felt his mouth pinch into a frown. Why silly? He gave him a name. He gave him a body. He cared for him from when he was very small. That was Mama, as far as he was concerned. What did it matter that he’d found him on the river, instead of with a second parent?

But before he could put his question into words, he had already moved back to his work. Right. He had been upset over something before he had come out with Dororo. Tahomaru had also been upset about something. The same thing?

He moved to sit down beside him, watching the rhythmic motion of him carving the wood. It would help him focus while he tried to speak. “Mama, you, Taho--you  _and_ Tahomaru. Hurt, sad. Why?”

There was a slight catch in his pattern. Then he paused. “I tried to make him talk about something he wasn’t ready for, I think. Sometimes I forget how much harder it is to be a doctor to the living than the dead.”

“Talk? Something bad?”

“Was I trying to make him talk about something bad?” It was something Tahomaru would also do, he noticed. Repeating his questions in full sentences. Trying to understand that way.

He nodded. “Something bad? Hurt?”

“…In a way, yes. I suspected there was more to his role in his story than what he had said, that perhaps he was a little embarrassed of where he had come from, or how he had left. He seemed aware of my suspicions, and so I thought it might be better to clear them up. It seems I was mistaken.”

Oh. So that must have been why he pretended not to know Daigo last night. And why he’d seemed so apologetic when they had gone to bed, but wouldn’t tell him why or what he was trying to comfort him over. But Tahomaru wasn’t embarrassed of his background, not even when Dororo would make fun of him for being squeamish about pickpocketing. So it must have been something different. Because they had fought? Because he thought his mom would be angry?

He concentrated on the words, running his fingers over his hem so that his hands wouldn’t shake. “I hurt Tahomaru, too. Before. Not like you, talk. We fight. Before.”

“You fought?” Jukai turned to him, alarm racing through him as he wavered between reaching to clasp his shoulders and keeping the space between them. “Why?”

The muscles in his stomach clenched. “Daigo Kagemitsu,” he said, reaching to clutch the amulet (was that what Dororo called it?) around his neck, reminding himself to focus on the feel of the rice seeds inside it.

Several things spiked through Jukai’s aura in that moment, some of which Hyakkimaru couldn’t quite identify. There was something he was putting together in his mind, and he couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, but he could guess. Then he set his tools down and turned himself to face him.

“You don’t mean…?” he trailed. “Hyakkimaru, can you tell me what happened?”

As he explained, Jukai listened without interrupting, letting him pause as he stumbled over words or struggled to get his hands to stop shaking enough that he wouldn’t distract himself. At times, he almost wished he would stop him, ask questions about what he said. There was a lot to explain, even before he had come into Daigo’s land. He was almost certain there were things he was leaving out, details he didn’t think to include that maybe were important, but he wasn’t sure what they were.

But Jukai listened in silence until he had finished, and then they sat in silence for a moment more.

Then he ran a hand through his hair, taking a breath and then slowly letting it out. Oh. That wasn’t good. Hyakkimaru had _known_ it wasn’t good, but…it must have been much worse than he’d thought.

“I had thought you had the look of someone who had killed people, but I hadn’t wanted to believe it,” he spoke, carefully holding his emotions down. “I had hoped the era would miss you, somehow.”

Oh. His head tilted forward, suddenly feeling much heavier under that statement, and he watched his hands along the hem of his clothes, needing to focus on anything but the kind of aura he was sure to see if he looked at him now. It wouldn’t help much, of course. He’d still feel it, but…

To his utter surprise, he felt large, sturdy arms wrapping around him and pulling him close, a protective hand on the back of his head.

“The kinds of things you have endured.” Somehow, it was meant for him and his brothers, both. Jukai’s voice shook as he held him, and Hyakkimaru felt his own eyes brimming with tears and his chest heaving and aching even if he wasn’t sure why. It shouldn’t have felt like such a weight off of him when he had barely noticed it before.

Hyakkimaru squirmed in his hold, trying to bring his arms up and return the gesture, but his mom’s much larger build kept them pinned at his sides. A hand ran over his hair several times, until he gave up and simply sagged against him, pressing his chin to his shoulder. It was okay to enjoy the feeling for a little bit, right?

When he released him from the hold, he held him out at arm’s length, looking right at him even though he knew Hyakkimaru couldn’t see his face. “You’re not a demon, you’re my son. Do you understand that?”

It wasn’t the first time he had heard something like that. Yet he swallowed anyway, nodding as he made himself answer. “Not a demon, I’m your son.” The words scratched against his throat, but Jukai didn't seem to mind it.

“That’s right.” He gave his shoulder a pat, thumping just a little harder than when Hyakkimaru had been a child, but not hard enough to hurt. Then he rose to his feet, pulling him with him. “Now, let’s check on your brothers and see about getting some food in you three. This morning’s been a bit much to handle on an empty stomach, wouldn’t you agree?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is one of those chapters that really made me wish we had a you-plural in English, because if I were writing in French, I could have just used "vous" and then several moments would have been much easier to write. Oh, well.
> 
> Deciding on point of view in some sections was another unexpected challenge for me. Some sections were obvious, either because they came to me easily, or because I needed it to remain unclear just how much the other party in the conversation knew (particularly in moments where one assumes the other knows more than he really does). There were also a few alternative scenes I had thought of, but ultimately, I wrote the ones I wrote because I felt it helped the story keep moving.
> 
> The unexpected section was actually Hyakkimaru's. I had originally planned to write the scene from Dororo's perspective, but I felt like the scene fit better between Hyakkimaru and Jukai, so it was changed to allow Dororo to be able to leave the scene for a bit (and also so as not to isolate Tahomaru, of course).
> 
> Jukai is...a bit of a challenge for me to write at times. The way I see him, he really does have a drive to help other people, but it's muddled up by his belief that his interference is going to cause more harm. A metaphor I'd used while writing him was setting a broken bone that you don't know how long it's been healing before you tried. I'm hoping I got the balance somewhere in that field.
> 
> That said, I also enjoyed writing this chapter, and hope you will enjoy reading it.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	4. Reconsidering Old Methods

It was a simple meal and a quiet one, which was probably for the best. They tried to hide it, and from what he could tell, it seemed like they were doing better, but it wasn’t like Dororo hadn’t faked it often enough to know what it looked like. He already knew Tahomaru had a habit of lying about it, and well, he figured Hyakkimaru had to have gotten his “I’m fine” act from _somewhere_.

Besides that, Hyakkimaru was hovering again, never quite touching Tahomaru, but one step away from reaching. Of course, Dororo thought, he must have been waiting for permission. Well, at least he remembered this time.

When they had finished and were preparing to step out, Jukai passed by Tahomaru. Dororo didn’t hear just what he said, but there was no mistaking the widening of his eye followed by a shaky nod as tension visibly drained out of him.

Behind him, he heard his big bro sigh as well, almost echoing the scene in front of them. Then he jumped as a wooden hand came to rest on his head. “Dororo?”

He already knew what he wanted to ask even without him putting the rest of it into words. Really, it wasn’t _that_ bad after he’d managed to go back to sleep. And even then, it wasn’t one of the worse ones. “Ah, all right,” he sighed mock-dramatically, holding out his arms and letting Hyakkimaru hoist him up before following his brother and his papa.

Seemed like Jukai was putting them right to work. Well, more exactly he’d mentioned putting _his son_ to work, but Dororo had never been comfortable accepting food for free—not that he wanted to think too deeply about _that_ at the moment—and Tahomaru was apparently still sore about being called a freeloader even though that was weeks ago at least (well, maybe not, but who had time to keep track?).

“Ah, very well, then,” he’d laughed, muttering something about healthy sibling rivalry and looking very pointedly at him and Tahomaru. “I need to chop some more firewood, first off. Though I’m sure you understand if I’m a bit uncomfortable putting you near an ax.”

It was directed towards all of them, but it was Hyakkimaru whose shoulders shrugged up and down in response, pulling a concerned expression from Tahomaru that was almost comical.

“So why don’t I have you three start by tending the garden?” Jukai led them to a patch that grew with a few different vegetables, but mostly grains. “You can pull up the weeds, and if there’s anything that seems ready, go ahead and pull that. I’ve noticed some of them getting close, so there should be at least a few. If anything looks wrong, like it’s diseased or is drying out, then come find me. Oh, and Hyakkimaru?”

“Hm?” His head tilted up the slightest bit.

“I’m afraid you’ll have a hard time doing this while carrying your brother. Would you put him down for a bit?”

Hyakkimaru huffed a long-suffering sigh which Dororo couldn’t help but giggle at, and sat him down. Really, where had he learned something like that? Jukai gave a knowing smile.

“Now, on a more serious note,” he continued. “I know I used to put you on this quite a bit, but it’s also been awhile since you’ve been home. You probably remember it, but if there’s anything you’ve forgotten or you aren’t sure what you’re looking at, don’t be afraid to ask.”

“Heh…” Tahomaru chuckled beside him, muttering to himself. “I’m afraid I’ll end up bothering you quite a bit, if he’s forgotten.”

“I’ll ask,” Hyakkimaru nodded.

Dororo, on the other hand, stood straighter, puffing out his chest and pointing to himself with mock superiority. “Of course! I, Dororo, will protect your son and his idiot brother from burning your crops while we work!”

“Why, you—!” Tahomaru lunged and Hyakkimaru held an arm between them almost reflexively, even though they could both see he wasn’t serious. Dororo hopped back and stuck out his tongue.

Jukai merely chuckled at the sight. “Yes, well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

* * *

 

In some ways—no, in many ways, it was a relief that Jukai knew about the events leading up to his joining the group. On the other hand, Tahomaru couldn’t shake that slight feeling of annoyance at his elder brother for going ahead and telling him everything. Especially since he didn’t know exactly what he had said, only that Jukai knew and he didn’t blame him for getting swept up in the conflict, as if he’d been some innocent passerby who hadn’t deliberately swung a sword while denouncing him as a demon who was single-handedly responsible for all their troubles.

Still, it wasn’t like it was anything unusual for Hyakkimaru, to see one of them was distressed and simply react to it. The fact that he’d never told him why he was hiding it probably didn’t help. Besides that, it wasn’t like it was just something that happened to him. It was his elder brother’s story, too, and wasn’t that the kind of things parents were usually curious about? What their children did once they left home?

It didn’t mean he couldn’t feel annoyed about it.

Dororo chattered as they worked, mostly anything that was on his mind, but sometimes he would look at their elder brother and say, “Oh, by the way, how do you know which ones you’re supposed to pull up? Do they look different to you?” or something to that effect.

Of course, he would answer them as best he could, “All green, but some are different.”

Which of course begged the question of how he knew what green was, having been blind his whole life. Perhaps they’d met someone else with the same ability? But then that still didn’t answer the question of how _that_ person would have known what green was. Was it something sighted people could learn, too? Or would sight always distract from it? He would have to test it out sometime later, when he wouldn’t get dirt in his eye or attract the imp’s teasing.

“Yeah?” Dororo grinned a bit wider at the near-full sentence. “How’s it different?”

Hyakkimaru sat for a moment, muscles in his mouth and throat working as he tried to put it into words. Finally, he gave up and shrugged. “Just different.”

“Oh,” Dororo said simply.

“I don’t…” Hyakkimaru started again, mouth working and brow pinching with determination, curling his fingers in the dirt. “Words, I don’t…”

“Oh!” Dororo dropped the twisted sprigs in his hands. “That’s okay! I can wait! You don’t have to tell me now.”

For a moment, Tahomaru wondered if any of them would have been able to understand his explanation even if he had found the words to give it. It wasn’t as though any of them knew anything about the aura sight beyond what other people—mostly his brother for him, but there might have been someone else at some point—had told them. It would have been like trying to explain land to a fish, more likely than not. Though he wasn’t sure if he would put it past either of them to try it.

“Actually,” he spoke up. “There was something I had wondered about.” There was no reason to feel awkward about asking in front of Dororo, but he found himself looking away. “Dororo said you grew _skin_ after killing a demon? So you lived sixteen years without skin?”

“Mm,” Hyakkimaru nodded, digging his fingers under the dirt and pulling up a particularly stubborn-looking weed.

“Didn’t that hurt?” Tahomaru had to resist the urge to claw at his own skin just imagining it.

Hyakkimaru, on the other hand, turned to stare at him, lips parted and brow lowered as if he didn’t understand the question. Then he gasped softly. “Ah!” he shook his head. “No, didn’t hurt. Didn’t feel pain, then.”

“Oh,” he sighed, tension releasing that he hadn’t known he’d been holding. “Good. That’s good. I can’t imagine if…”

Beside them, Dororo shuddered. “Ugh, thanks. I did _not_ need that in my head. _Ugh!_ ” He shuddered again, rubbing his hands along his arms without even noticing he was grinding dirt into them.

“Well, then, you can imagine why I wanted to know,” Tahomaru retorted. “I didn’t want it in _my_ head, either.”

“ _Ugh!_ ” the imp grunted again, throwing a fistful of dirt and weeds in his direction.

Their elder brother watched them, looking like he didn’t know whether to be amused or concerned. He turned back to his work, examining something neither of the other two could quite see. His brothers quickly followed suit.

In some ways, he felt like this was how things should have been from the start, the three of them, working together on something like this, far away from demons or samurai turf wars. The roots dug in and cut his hands, but it wasn’t bad work.

But he knew it wouldn’t have been possible. After all, Dororo had to have come from somewhere before he started picking fights with thugs he conned, and Tahomaru didn’t regret his own life with Hyogo and Mutsu…

He really hoped they were okay. It wasn’t like they would have been allowed to simply lose track of Daigo Kagemitsu’s chosen heir simply because he’d decided to sneak out with no real idea where he was going. If someone decided they’d failed in their job…

No, he took a breath. Hyogo and Mutsu were smart. He’d seen Mutsu lie as easy as breathing before. They would figure something out, even if they had to lay low. His mother might aid them, if she knew what they were helping him do. They would be fine.

Though, speaking of Hyogo and Mutsu, there _had_ been a reason he’d set out with his brothers. Why, he’d even told Jukai that reasoning. Moving quickly through towns (occasionally being shuffled off once the demon was dead because apparently, killing demons made people uneasy) hadn’t left him with much time to come up with any more than what he could gather through observation.

And it wasn’t a massive field. The patch probably wasn’t meant to feed more than himself and Hyakkimaru, and he might have done things a little differently if he was a farmer who was feeding many others, but it was a food source that wasn’t the rice paddies. And it _was_ something to consider once the demons no longer protected them. _And_ it wasn’t like he had to worry about Jukai becoming suspicious and using him as leverage against a rival lord (even if he was still a bit annoyed that his elder brother had told him). If they were going to be there for awhile, even if it was just for the day, well, then…

Just as he stood up, he saw Jukai approaching. He joined them and then knelt down, surveying what they had pulled up and nodding in approval. And just like that, his nerves started flaring again, as if they’d come straight from their earlier conversation. No, he told himself, he would do this. He could not consider himself the heir to his father’s domain if he was not able to do this.

“Is this…something you’ve done for long?” Tahomaru started, feeling it was easier than jumping straight in.

Before he could answer, Hyakkimaru nodded. “I was little, Mama works. I grow big, I help.”

Jukai laughed, reaching a hand to ruffle his son’s hair, who reached to put his hands on top of them, but never removed them from his head. It almost reminded him of Dororo, and by the grin on the kid’s face, he thought so too.

“Yes, I suppose that’s about right.”

“Then would you mind if I asked you some questions about it? We’ve had rice back home for the past fifteen years or so, but I’m concerned that might change once we’ve broken the deal,” he took a breath and continued. “If what we’ve enjoyed has been entirely or even mostly because of the demons, we might end up needing new strategies to feed everyone. So could I ask how you manage?”

There was something in the man’s look which he couldn’t quite identify, somewhere between something that looked like sadness and something else that almost seemed like pride. A small warmth grew up inside of him, daring to hope some of that pride might have been for him.

“Of course, you know feeding my own household is very different than feeding an entire territory,” he began. “But I can still give you what I know. First of all, you need to be aware of where you’re planting and what you want to plant. You’ve probably noticed I don’t grow rice here…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really quite enjoy writing Dororo's point of view, and I wonder why I don't do it more often.
> 
> I've got a few ideas for where I want to take it from here, but I've got a few other fics running around in my head that are still half-formed, but need to be jotted down to "clear up" some headspace to do my main one. (And it probably doesn't help that I got my tablet reworking and have been a little obsessed with drawing lately, but still).
> 
> Still, I enjoyed writing the interactions in this chapter, even if it took a bit longer than I anticipated to finish it.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	5. Do No Harm

Jukai had told him what he knew, though he wondered if his methods would be as effective in as large a scale as the boy was probably thinking. But he had insisted that anything would be useful and clung to every word. A part of Jukai had wanted to caution him, to prepare him for the worst, but he suspected he wouldn’t have asked him in the first place if he wasn’t already aware of it.

It was still strange to him to think that his son had gone off and come back with two additional brothers—one of whom was his biological brother whom he had fought with and blinded in one eye. When Hyakkimaru had first told him, a cold dread inside of him had told him that this was the result of his pulling him from the river and sending him back out, and it shamed him to have thought so.

Even after the previous night, after all he had told him about his brothers, after he had awakened to find his son rocking the youngest child, it had sent him into doubt.

He had only mentioned it because Jukai had been upset, he had talked about it _in his own words_ , and yet he had wondered if he had done more harm than good. His answer had been as much for himself as it had for Hyakkimaru. Because his son was _not_ a demon, and the fact that he had been the one to raise him, whatever mistakes he might have made in the process, did not change that.

As he had swung the axe down, splitting the firewood, another part of him wondered if it would have been better after all to have gone with him, with the number of times he used “not like” to refer to newly regained body parts—hearing especially—and some of the more disturbing things he had said, and some of the encounters he had not quite been able to phrase. He’d said enough that Jukai could guess he’d had trouble with Daigo Kagemitsu’s army, and there had certainly been moments before that where it sounded like he had needed a doctor.

But then, if he had gone with him, would Dororo have joined him still? Or would the presence of an unknown adult have frightened him off? And that was without considering the patients he had tended here who might have otherwise bled out or succumbed to poison.

There was too much to consider to know which would have led to a worse outcome.

When he had joined the boys in the garden and Hyakkimaru had told them he used to help him, he had thought to himself that he really would need to explain the difference between “mama” and “papa.” He had determined not to do so in front of the others, unsure of whether it was to shield him from their affectionate ribbing, or to protect himself from the commentary Dororo was bound to add.

A small part of him wondered if he hesitated because it was the first name Hyakkimaru had ever called him in his own words.

When they had finished, he insisted on their resting, in spite of Hyakkimaru’s protest of, “But, work. Is more?”

There was always more work, he was tempted to say, but that didn’t mean they needed to wear themselves to the ground trying to do it. Instead, he answered, “I think we’ve accomplished what I needed done for today. Besides, I need to see if any patients need me, and it would put me far more at ease to know you three aren’t collapsing from heat stroke where I can’t get to you in time.”

The answer had satisfied Hyakkimaru, while Tahomaru seemed to be weighing the possibility. Dororo, on the other hand, protested that he could take care of himself just fine. “Oh, but I guess _these_ two…yeah,” he finally shrugged. “I can see why you’d be worried.”

“In your case, he’d be more afraid of your stealing his tools to sell off.” Tahomaru hid his grin below a cautious hand.

For a moment, the child started as if to kick him, then changed his mind and simply gave him a shove.

Jukai merely shook his head. “I’m afraid he wouldn’t get much of a price for them even if he did. Of course, I can’t ask you to stay inside the whole time. Just be careful not to push yourselves, all right?”

With that, he set out. It would not be his most productive of days. His son’s visit—bringing two he called his brothers, no less—had helped him immensely, but it did not erase everything that had come before it. He would force himself to walk through the village, to see if anyone needed medical attention, but he knew he would spend most of his day on the battlefield, fixing the prosthetics on the corpses.

After all, he could not do harm by aiding a corpse.

* * *

 

Hyakkimaru had spent the majority of the remainder of that day showing his brothers the land around his home. The stream where he played and found all kinds of interesting creatures, the trees he had swung from and climbed for fruit to eat.

Dororo followed, chirping out questions about what everything was. Some of them, he could answer. Others, he found he didn’t know the words and would point and mime until Dororo or Tahomaru supplied one.

There were so many other things he wanted to show them, yet he found himself drained from the effort of answering their questions, putting so many things to words that he hadn’t had to think of in that way before. Which was odd to him. It wasn’t like he’d strained himself before trying to talk. 

He must have been making a face, because Dororo tugged on his sleeve. “Something wrong, bro?”

 _Was_ something wrong? It wasn’t like a demon was nearby. Though if he focused, he did get an uneasy tugging feeling. But it wasn’t like they were going to be attacked. Besides, that probably wasn’t what Dororo meant.

All he really wanted in that moment was to go to the stream, find a stick, and stare at the creatures that moved over it.

“Words are wrong,” he finally answered. “They feel wrong.”

“You mean the names are wrong? Like it’s something else?”

He shook his head. “Nno. Words,” he paused. Something had to be better to say it. “Sound.” He tapped his ears, the way Dororo did sometimes when he wanted to indicate.

Dororo was already tugging at the cloth they normally used. “Is it too loud?”

“No, not too loud.”

There was a small catch as Tahomaru figured it out. “You’re not used to thinking of it this way. In words.”

“Mm,” he nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

“But you can write. Wouldn’t you have to have known some words before?” Dororo chimed in, inching up next to him.

That was harder to explain. If the rest had been easy. How did you write if you didn’t understand words when you learned? How was he supposed to explain that?

Finally, he simply dropped to his knees, finding a patch of dirt and starting to trace his name.

“Bro, I can’t read…” Dororo huffed, confusion mixed with annoyance. He must have explained this to him before he could hear. Maybe he’d done it again since then.

“It’s his name,” Tahomaru offered, sounding every bit as confused as Dororo.

So that wasn’t working. He reached for Dororo’s hand, placing it over his own, and then did the motion again. Something lit up inside his aura just then. Even without words, he knew he had gotten it.

“Is this how you learned?” Tahomaru asked, his soul flickering for a moment before he placed his hand over theirs.

And instead of answering, Hyakkimaru simply watched their hands for awhile. His own prosthetic one with its green aura, covered by Dororo’s small but bright one, and Tahomaru’s, larger, but calmer, always laced with a bit of concern. He found himself wishing he could have added his mom’s aura to theirs, big and even.

He hoped everything was okay for him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do more with this chapter, yet this seems to be what it wanted to do. But then, I suppose that's what having more than one chapter is for. Though I did still get more of Jukai going slightly into mother hen mode, and I'm pretty happy to have gotten to write it.
> 
> In one of my previous fics, I had mentioned that I thought Hyakkimaru thinks quite a few things, but doesn't necessarily have the words to put them to. Some of the way Hyakkimaru perceived things before putting words to them was inspired by some of the early comics featuring Cassandra Cain as Batgirl. She initially thinks in movements, rather than words, and I had read a headcanon somewhere that Hyakkimaru may have understood the words he wrote as a series of motions which carried particular meanings. The idea seemed to fit, so I went with it. 
> 
> I am still a little excited, because this is my first one that's a split between Jukai and Hyakkimaru's perspectives, and I've wanted to do that for a long time, and will probably do so again before the end of the story. There are definitely some scenes churning in my mind right now, and more than a few conversations I need between them, which at this point, I still see as fitting into this story, rather than being separate.
> 
> I will probably also continue to edit and tweak this one, but I also wanted to get something out before seeing the finale that was at least a little bit fluffier than the other two things I've been producing lately, but wasn't necessarily me starting up another fic. (That said, there's at least one more I want to pick up...)
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	6. Know the Present

When Jukai returned home that evening, a dull ache settling in his bones, he was almost immediately greeted by his son opening his arms and slumping into his chest. “Busy day, huh?” he smiled, running a careful hand over his back.

“Mm,” he mumbled into his clothing.

“Bro was showing us around the place,” Dororo chipped in. “Oh, and he showed us how he learned to write. That was pretty cool.”

“Oh? Could I hear about it?” Jukai asked.

“No.” Hyakkimaru pressed even tighter against him. “Later.”

“He’s been talking quite a bit, when he explained things to us. I’m afraid we might have pushed him to overdo it.” As he spoke, Tahomaru looked at the back of Hyakkimaru’s head, rather than at Jukai. “It’s…he’s been better, but sometimes…”

“Bro also showed us how he writes! And where stuff grows around here, and where to find cool stuff in the stream! And a little of how stuff looks to him…” Dororo cut in, pretending not to notice that slight sigh of relief.

“I see, so a very productive time, then. Are you still wanting to help with the meal, or…?” His ponytail bobbed as he nodded against his chest, though he made no move to release him. “Then I think you’ll want to have both hands free.”

There was a soft whine as he squeezed a little tighter, but after a moment, he released him and stood up, eyes averted the slightest bit, pouting just enough that he probably thought he couldn’t see it. Jukai placed his hands over his shoulders.

“I’ll still be here when we’re done,” he chuckled. It wasn’t as though he was going to make him do this by himself. Really, there was no reason to sulk.

Initially, Hyakkimaru simply watched Jukai work and allowed him to put his hands over his own, guiding him. It wouldn’t hurt him if he cut himself now, but it was better to get him used to avoiding it so he wouldn’t build a habit before regaining his arms. After a few minutes, Jukai withdrew his hands, letting Hyakkimaru cut the vegetables on his own.

When he first felt his hands withdraw, Hyakkimaru froze, turning and looking at him, eyes wide and lips parted in silent questioning. More than a question, there was some small worry below it. “Go on,” Jukai smiled, though he would not see it. As tempting as it may have been to return to helping him, this was something he was plenty capable of doing himself.

Hyakkimaru watched him a moment longer before taking a breath, turning back, and resuming the work, brow pinching as he gnawed the edge of his lip. It wasn’t that different from his swordsmanship, he wanted to tell him. It was a smaller area, and he had to be gentler with his food than with a demon that was attacking him, of course, but it wasn’t as though the task was completely foreign to him. But he remembered how he had immediately clung to him, how Tahomaru had told him he’d been speaking a lot as he showed them around. It hadn’t sounded like a bad experience for him, from what they had said, but if he was already overwhelmed, it might be better not to add to it more than necessary.

The silence that settled over them was a familiar one, and he felt the tension draining from his son as it dragged on. Once he was satisfied with his progress, Jukai moved on to skin and gut the small fish he had caught that day. Perhaps that would be something for another time. They may not have had great difficulties communicating without words, but there were some things which Jukai felt he would need to talk him through.

Besides, with both of them working, he would be able to get Hyakkimaru and his brothers fed a bit sooner.

Though Hyakkimaru didn’t cling to him for their meal, he sat himself close to him and did not move from that spot until they had finished. At first, he wondered just how far he had pushed himself, but neither Dororo nor Tahomaru seemed to think it was anything unusual. Perhaps he had simply grown used to Hyakkimaru’s near tireless energy, which had never quite seemed to fade as he grew up. After all, it was only natural that there was _something_ that exhausted him.

* * *

 

“Showed them trees, water.” His voice drifted out in a low mumble sometime later. “Writing.”

It still startled him somewhat, hearing Hyakkimaru speak where he was used to silence. Dororo had drifted off to sleep, and Tahomaru had placed himself nearby. Though he did not speak, Jukai was fairly certain he hadn’t fallen asleep in his seated position.

“Your brothers seemed to enjoy it,” he replied easily.

He nodded, pointing to himself. “Also. Writing. Teach Dororo, me.”

“You’re also teaching Dororo how to write?” While he was fairly certain this was what he had said, the doctor in him felt it was better to confirm than to risk misinterpreting and adding another error to his list. Besides that, the father in him knew that hearing it said would help Hyakkimaru to structure his answers in the future.

This time, however, instead of nodding, he sat for a moment, head tilting and brow pinching slightly. “Maybe,” he finally said.

Jukai waited for him to elaborate. It certainly sounded like there was a reason for that “maybe.” When he said nothing more, he prepared to ask him why it was a maybe, rather than yes or no.

“Hyakkimaru understands more in writing than he knows how to pronounce,” Tahomaru spoke up, voice low to avoid waking Dororo. “I offered to help with the spoken portions, but Dororo is a bit wary of having two instructors at once.”

“I wonder why that is,” he said with a smile. Tahomaru’s eye went wide, and for a moment, he thought he had hit another sore point. But then he relaxed, bringing up a hand to stifle a small laugh.

Hyakkimaru, on the other hand, simply pointed to Jukai. “Busy day? For you, too?”

“Oh!” he jolted slightly, hoping they didn’t see it. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

How was he supposed to tell his son that he had spent the rest of his day attaching prosthetics to corpses? There was no shame in doing so—the dead were no less worthy of respect than the living—and yet, he could not deny that there _was_ an element of shame in his doing it. It wasn’t as though he never aided living patients, of course, but a part of him also worried at what being one of so very few living patients would do to Hyakkimaru, _especially_ in the condition he had grown up.

“Rough day?” It took him a moment to register Hyakkimaru’s question, and he shook himself out of his haze to see him staring up at him, brows upturned and lips parted with concern. A tentative hand reached for his cheek, and he barely registered it as he leaned in to put their foreheads together.

“A bit of one.” Jukai returned the gesture, running a shaky hand over his son’s hair and back. It was as much to ground himself as anything else.

When he sat back, Hyakkimaru gave that puzzled look once more. “Then, talk is bad, now? Tired, rough day, sad. Sleep is better, now?”

“Do you mean that _you_ are tired and want to go to sleep?” Jukai reached out to ruffle his hair. “But I suppose it’s not a bad idea.”

Though Hyakkimaru huffed a sigh, he still shuffled next to his brothers and lied down, letting a half-conscious Dororo nestle into him as he curled onto his side. Tahomaru mumbled something, tucking himself against his back, but then his breathing evened out and he grew quiet. From what Jukai had seen of him, he had to wonder just how long it took Tahomaru to be comfortable doing that.

And it was sorely tempting to go straight to work, to take a light and carve at something until he’d cut his thoughts away with the excess wood. He wouldn’t be able to work inside, not with Hyakkimaru hearing now, and two others in the same room. But even with his back turned, he could feel his son’s eyes on him. Would he try to follow him out, or simply lie there fretting? 

* * *

 

When he awoke, he felt a weight against his back, and the cool wood of his son’s prosthetic arms wrapped around him. Strange, he couldn’t remember falling asleep.

He turned over a bit, reaching to loosen Hyakkimaru’s grip without rousing him more than necessary. The boy stirred as he lifted his arm, adjusting his grip and pressing his forehead into his shoulder, nestling blearily. In some ways, it was so much like when he was a child, and would curl up beside him for comfort. It was easy to imagine it—he might have had a difficult training session, or perhaps they had a close call with a demon or something was lurking around. Whatever the reason, when they went to bed that night, Hyakkimaru would press into his side, sometimes clinging, sometimes simply lying against him.

But then there was a soft groan as his mouth worked to form words, and the illusion broke down in front of him. “Not a demon. You’re Mama.”

There were other kinds of evil in the world besides the demons, he wanted to tell him. But he knew that. He had sat in front of him, faltering over words and shaking his head and fighting to keep his hands still and told him enough that he _had_ to have known that.

“Not a demon. You’re _Mama_ ,” he insisted, tension rising in his voice.

“Hyakkimaru.” As much as he wanted to give that reassurance, he could not quite bring himself to repeat it.

For a moment, it seemed like his name would be enough. Hyakkimaru’s mouth pressed into a thin line, probably considering the fact that he hadn’t actually said what he wanted him to. But he didn’t say anything more, tightening his hold on him instead, moving his hand over his back as Jukai had done the many nights he had held him as a child.

“Hyakkimaru,” he repeated, moving to sit up and pulling his son with him. As much as he had hoped this day would never come, it was clear he could no longer put it off. “There’s…there’s something I haven’t told you about. Would you come outside with me?”

There was a long pause before Hyakkimaru nodded, allowing Jukai to pull him up as he stood. He spared one last glance to the two still sleeping huddled under their blanket. Dororo had twisted up in one side of it, while Tahomaru curled on his side, arm outstretched just enough to reach him. If he put a reasonable distance between them and spoke quietly, they would not wake up before he had finished. Good. He wasn’t sure if he could handle all three of them learning at once—if it was even appropriate for them to know. It was better to gage his son’s response first, and proceed from there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jukai has been one of the characters who has most consistently surprised me as I've written him. I feel like it's very frequently that stuff ends up coming up which I didn't necessarily set out to bring up when I initially started writing, and sometimes he's much more direct than I expected him to be when I planned the conversation. 
> 
> I'm kind of happy to be back on this one, since I felt like it stalled for a little bit. I have kind of an idea where I want some of the next part to go now as well.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	7. Tell the Antecedents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains references to the events of episode 3 of the 2019 series, so I'll include a warning for brief mentions of an attempted suicide.

When they reached the space where they had been before, Jukai first sat Hyakkimaru down, and then followed suit. It was almost comforting that he still allowed him to fuss over him a bit, smoothing an edge of his sleeve before sitting down. At least it was something that was as before, though he wondered if it would remain so after. He took a steadying breath and let it out.

Then, Jukai spoke. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet,” he repeated his earlier words. “It’s about my life, long before I found you. It’s…not something I’m proud of, and if you hate me once I’ve told you, I won’t hold that against you.”

Whatever the outcome of this conversation, he did not have the right to refuse it. Yet some small part of him hoped it would not be the same as all those years ago, that the years he spent raising him had to have counted for _something_.

Already, Hyakkimaru had taken the same position he’d held yesterday, hands gripping the frayed hem of his clothing, back nearly rigid. The only difference was that today, he was looking at him, brow pinched in a way that probably looked much more dramatic to him than it would have to someone used to seeing him without his mask. Perhaps he could be allowed to hope this would be different.

“I used to work for a man called Shiba…” he began, explaining his role as an executioner, and just what that entailed. Perhaps it was more than what he strictly needed to know, but he needed to understand just what it meant. He told him how he had come to recognize what he had done…how he had attempted to end his life over it…and how he was found by foreign merchants who had taken him overseas, where he studied medicine. His belief that he had been made to live, and that there was something he still had to do.

There were times where he had to stop himself, to collect himself or to explain a concept he knew Hyakkimaru wouldn’t have been familiar with. Through it all, he could see every little shift in his son’s expression, in his posture. There were times where he wasn’t able to look at him, as if he had any right not to bear his reaction.

The one part he wasn’t able to tell him of was Kaname. The child he had taken in and apprenticed before Hyakkimaru. Both his time with him, and his eventual departure. He found himself pausing. Why was this the one detail he couldn’t manage? Shouldn’t his son have been allowed to know?

And yet, he could not force the words to come.

He felt a hand against his cheek and he jolted, shaking himself from his thoughts to see Hyakkimaru leaning over him. His mouth worked like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t quite form the words. After a few moments of trying, he simply rested his forehead against his own.

Did he not understand what Jukai had told him? Or had he himself just grown so accustomed to the idea…Of course his son would accept him after he had done the same for him. But if they hadn’t had that conversation…

Still, he felt something beginning to break inside of him as his son slowly nuzzled against his forehead, mouth still working to form words that didn’t make it out.

“Still Mama,” he finally managed, voice strained and soft.

 _It isn’t that simple_ , he wanted to argue. But he could see the tears sliding down his cheeks, and feel his hands shaking against him. Of course he didn’t think it was.

And so he said nothing, simply moving to hold him as his own breath hitched and his eyes filled with tears. He would never be able to atone. He had long accepted that. But even so, if he could be allowed to accept this…if he was allowed to accept it…

Hyakkimaru shifted as Jukai pulled him close, tightening his hold around him and burying his face against his shoulder. How strange, that someone seeking comfort could in turn comfort him, even at the moment they sought it. But that had always been the way it was with Hyakkimaru, hadn’t it? Even as he lay in that boat, desperately crying to be allowed to live—because he _had_ been crying, even without a voice or tears—he had pulled him back from the brink. If he could continue to do that, even knowing what Jukai was…

“Oh, my child,” he whispered. _My dear, terrifying, precious child…_

* * *

When Dororo awoke that morning, Tahomaru was hovering again. As much as he wanted to feel annoyed over it, well, at least he was warm. His big bro was gone, too, but so was Jukai. Probably, he’d followed him out. Which wasn’t surprising. He’d been tired and clingy the night before, and at one point, Dororo had roused and thought he’d seen Hyakkimaru tucked against his papa, so maybe he’d had a bad night.

He understood why he’d want to go to him, if that was the case. Still, it kind of sucked that he hadn’t stayed with them instead. Even if it wasn’t like _he_ wouldn’t have done the same, if it had been his mama instead of Jukai.

Now that he thought about it, Tahomaru was probably the only one of them who wouldn’t have picked one of his parents over one of them. It wasn’t like he had said anything—at least not to him, and not that Hyakkimaru had repeated—but he almost never brought up the subject on his own, and when either of them brought it up, he always had less to say than they did.

“Hey, you all right?” It was the first thing he could think of to say after staring for so long.

Tahomaru startled a little at that. Which he guessed was understandable. He probably hadn’t even wanted Dororo in the room yesterday morning, and it definitely hadn’t helped that he’d had no idea what to say or do even after what little he would tell him. Instead, he’d just ended up kind of awkwardly near him, because it wasn’t the same as when he’d panic and think his eye was bleeding, and it wasn’t like he could just grab his face like big bro did.

Some part of him wondered if they would ever be able to do that, or if Hyakkimaru would always need to be one of the parties to it.

Finally, Tahomaru nodded, still wide-eyed. It was almost comical, because it wasn’t like Dororo could’ve done much to threaten him just then.

“Then,” he continued, pushing himself to his feet and holding out a hand. “Should we go find bro?”

For a moment, it almost seemed like he wouldn’t accept it. But then he nodded again and took the offered hand, pulling himself upright.

When they stepped outside and saw Hyakkimaru pressed into Jukai’s chest, large, sturdy arms wrapped tight around him, Dororo’s heart sank into his stomach. It must have been a _really_ bad night, then.

But just as he was about to step forwards, he noticed something else, too. His big bro was holding tight to his papa, sure, but his hand was also running up and down his back, slowly repeating patterns. On top of that, Tahomaru placed a hand over Dororo’s shoulder in such a way that he didn’t even have to turn around to know he was wearing that distinctly uncomfortable look that told him he was seeing something he shouldn’t have been. Which was…probably right, since he couldn’t recall ever seeing many kids comforting their parents. But then again, that was in public, and this was in his bro’s own home.

Well, just outside of it, anyway.

Tahomaru shifted, starting to steer them back inside, but then Jukai finally released Hyakkimaru from his hold. He put his hands on either side of his face, looking directly at him and mumbling something too softly for them to hear. Jukai merely nodded and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

Hyakkimaru nodded in return, but it was still a few moments later before he broke off and turned towards them.

“Brother, I…” Tahomaru stumbled over his words as he approached, as if he would think they’d been listening in and be mad about it. But then he reached forward, touching a hand where tears had tracked down his cheeks. “Are you all right?”

For a moment, he almost seemed confused, touching his hand to the opposite cheek. A moment later, it clicked. “Oh! Yes. Just Mama needs me, is all.”

“Is _he_ all right?”

He paused again. Then he nodded once, slowly. “Mm.”

There was something in that which he wasn’t saying. And maybe it should’ve been a relief to know that he wouldn’t go repeating things he shouldn’t just because one of them had asked him, but at the same time, Dororo kind of wanted to know this one. It wasn’t just being nosy, either. At least, he liked to think it wasn’t.

“I go with Mama, today.”

“What?” Tahomaru’s head whipped towards him even though he didn’t fully register that he had spoken.

“Mama needs me,” his big bro repeated. “So. I go with Mama today. Yes?”

And what was he supposed to say to that? Even Tahomaru looked a bit dumbfounded, only managing not to sputter because he couldn’t even get any sounds out. Had he actually even told his papa he planned on doing that, or had he even decided it more than a few seconds ago?

On top of that, what was _he_ supposed to do with Tahomaru while bro was off with his papa? Even the idea of just staying around the house without him seemed weird. And what if a demon attacked? Would he and Tahomaru be able to hold their own against it?

But before he could say any of those things, Jukai approached. He looked calm enough, but if Dororo looked closely, he thought he could see the barest traces of redness. Though maybe he only thought that because he knew _Hyakkimaru_ had been crying?

“Hey, did you know—” he started.

“Mama, I go with you, today,” Hyakkimaru started at the same time. “Yes?”

There was a moment as Jukai registered what they had said and Tahomaru glanced between the three of them, biting the inside of his cheek as his brow pinched upwards.

Then Jukai shut his eyes, a slight expression playing over his features, not quite a smile, but maybe approaching one. “Ah, Hyakkimaru. Why don’t we take care of what needs to be done this morning first. If you still feel like going with me afterwards, we’ll discuss it then.”

This time, it was Hyakkimaru who paused, staring just off from Jukai’s shoulder as his brow lowered the smallest fraction. Then, slowly, he nodded once.

Huh. That was…surprisingly easier than he’d expected. At least, it seemed like it was easier than if he or Tahomaru had been trying. Maybe it was just because it was his papa, or because he hadn’t outright said he couldn’t. He wondered if Jukai knew he wasn’t likely to let it go if he still had even the slightest reason to think he still needed him with him. But maybe he was also hoping for that? Dororo wasn’t sure.

“All right, then,” Jukai said. “If you’ll come with me…”

Hyakkimaru trailed him almost immediately, with Dororo and Tahomaru close behind. As Tahomaru rested a hand on his shoulder, Dororo resisted the urge to shake it off. It seemed like everything was okay, but he couldn’t shake that feeling that something was still building just below the surface, and he could still remember what almost happened the last time he’d had that feeling.

He really hoped everything was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm admittedly not entirely sure why this chapter took me two months to pound out, particularly when I already had an idea of what I wanted, but better late than never, I suppose. Though I think part of it is that I originally wanted to write the chapter from Hyakkimaru's perspective, when it really needed to be from Jukai's, so I ended up rewriting almost the entirety of the first half. I think it works better this way, particularly since it's Jukai's story to tell, and so it would be best to look at it from his perspective. 
> 
> In the 2019 anime, it almost felt like there were times Jukai wanted Hyakkimaru to hate him, or at least resent him for the things he thought he did wrong. I think that influenced a little of the way I wrote here. He isn't going to hate him, especially not with Jukai still accepting him in spite of the events of episodes 5/6 and 11/12, and I think on some level Jukai understands that, but at the same time, he's so convinced that he can never atone and that he can never be anything but what he was under Shiba that he expects everything to reinforce that even in situations where he theoretically knows it wouldn't. And obviously, that's not something that can heal immediately, but I did want to at least give Jukai some relief in that area.
> 
> I have attempted to be respectful in how I've addressed Jukai's past, but of course, if there are ways you feel I ought to have done better, please let me know and I will attempt to correct it.
> 
> I've got a few different ideas of where I want to go next, but we'll see which way it takes, or if I even go with one of the ways I was thinking of at all. And of course, we've also got Tahomaru and Dororo dreading solo bonding time. I've realized that chronologically, up until this point, they haven't really interacted outside of things that directly have to do with Hyakkimaru, (which occasionally gets confusing for me since I've occasionally written later in the timeline for other fics) so...
> 
> As always, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


	8. Predict the Future

In the end, he had been unable to dissuade him from following him out into the battlefield. As he watched him, trailing just behind him and staring out at any slight movements that caught his eye, he thought back to the conversation they’d had just moments before leaving.

He had known the sights of the dead and dying would do little to deter him. He’d seen more than his share of death. And yet that was what Jukai dreaded his seeing the most. Even telling him of his past, he didn’t know of the most recent part, of what had happened after he had gone to retrieve his body. He still didn’t know about the corpses, and part of Jukai wanted to keep it that way. Shame aside, the last thing he wanted was for his son to start equating himself with some kind of living corpse.

As much as he hated to use it, there was one thing that might deter him. Although Jukai had tried to sustain them as best he could without imposing on anyone else, there were times when that didn’t work out. Perhaps Hyakkimaru had outgrown his clothing and he needed fabric to make new ones, or his crops died and he needed to purchase food to offset that loss, or there was something else he needed to supplement them.

Even as a small child, Hyakkimaru had hated going into the marketplace. Perhaps it had been too much movement, too many shapes much larger than him shifting and milling about, or perhaps he could sense the unease of the people who saw him, the silent _What is that? Is it even alive?_ that no one would say out loud. The other children who would run up to him, looking him over and making him tense up before some bold few would try to grab at his prosthetic arms or try to catch his mask, and he would duck away.

There were few who seemed intentionally or actively malicious, but it was hard to blame him when that tension became almost automatic, when he pressed himself to Jukai’s leg even before anyone had approached, or silently begged to be carried even as he hedged on nine years old.

There had been a time when he’d thought that one day, he might be able to leave him by himself while he went into town, but that dream had died with the first demon that chased him back to their house. At least until he had taught him to fight, and he had killed his first demon unassisted.

As soon as that happened, he had stopped going altogether. And certainly, since his return, he had mentioned things which made it sound like he had been through his fair share of villages and marketplaces and been generally okay, but even so…

“I’ll have to go through town,” he had said. “Are you certain you still want to join me?”

There was no missing the flattening of his lip, the sudden stillness in his frame. Then, there was one slow, stiff nod. “Yes. I go with you, today,” he insisted.

“Are you certain?” Jukai repeated, laying a hand on his shoulder, hoping _any_ of his intent would come across. _Please, please, if nothing else, let me protect you from this one thing._

“I go with you, today.”

It had crossed his mind in that moment that he could simply refuse to let him join. If he told him he _had_ to stay with his brothers, he had no doubt he would do it. They would probably be happy to have him with them, even if they had chosen not to participate in this conversation.

“Very well, then.”

And yet. Something in him had prevented him from doing so.

Perhaps it had been the knowledge that he could not keep it from him forever. The rest of his stay had told him that much, that the longer he kept it from him, the more it would eat away at him, though he dared not compare it to the demons eating his son.

* * *

 

Now, Hyakkimaru watched as he knelt beside a corpse which had lost an arm, taking a prosthetic and fitting it over the stump of his shoulder.

“Why?”

Jukai nearly jumped at the sudden question, turning to him and seeing the open confusion in his face. What was why? Why was he tending the corpses? Why had he tried to prevent him from joining? He could be asking anything related to any of what he had told him this morning.

“What is it, Hyakkimaru?”

His throat worked, mouth struggling to form words, arms rigid at his sides and fingers vibrating from the effort to keep them still. Finally, he threw his hand forward, gesturing in the general area where the corpse sat.

“ _Why?_ ” he asked again, stepping forward and reaching out with his hands, nearly bumping into the body in front of him, if Jukai hadn’t reached out and grabbed him.

The gesture seemed to alert him to something, and Hyakkimaru dropped to his knees, feeling along the prosthetic and trailing his way up to the corpse it was attached to, giving a little jolt as he felt it. There was a brief flash of comprehension, but then his expression grew increasingly confused.

“It’s dead,” he stated, questions obvious even without his speaking it.

In that moment, Jukai understood something, too. “Hyakkimaru,” he spoke. “Can you not see the dead?”

He shook his head once, running his hands along the wooden one below him, then pointing to where he had felt the body, then back to Jukai. “Why? It’s dead.”

 _Why is it dead?_ “There was a battle here not long before you and your brothers came to visit.” From what he had heard, there might have been some kind of yokai picking off others who came to this location, though he himself hadn’t encountered it.

Hyakkimaru’s hands came to the sides of his head, gripping just on either side of his ponytail. “Nno.” He shook his head, alternatively biting at his lip and trying to form words. Finally, he grabbed the prosthetic arm and bent it upwards, looking straight at Jukai. “Why this?”

 _Oh._ For a moment, Jukai’s mind went blank. Had he really thought he wouldn’t ask about it? “Sometimes,” he swallowed hard, repeating what he had told himself so many times before, “it is much easier to be a doctor to the dead than to the living.”

“For…practice?” There was something cautious in his tone, uncertain of whether he had understood.

Jukai rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, hardly feeling it. “No, Hyakkimaru. I wish that was all it was.”

His brow lowered and his mouth pressed thin at that. How much of it had he figured out just then?

“It isn’t always like this,” he continued. “I have tended living patients as well.”

Hyakkimaru opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak, but then changed his mind and simply pointed, turning a finger towards his own chest.

“Including you, yes.” It might not have been what he was asking, but it was an opportunity for Jukai to reinforce his counting as living. “But also farmers and travelers, at times.”

The answer hadn’t satisfied him. He could see it in the way he chewed at his lip, the way his shoulders remained rigid and his fingers began to work at the edge of his hem.

Jukai took a breath, then slowly let it out, reaching to lay a hand on his boy’s shoulder. “What I told you this morning, about what I did before? There are times when it becomes hard…” _Nothing will undo it. Everything only adds to it._ No. Breathe. “I don’t know if I would have been able to treat _you_ , if you hadn’t been so young when I found you.”

Something in that made him stop, looking straight ahead instead of down. Even now, the image of a tiny little body lying still, singed tunic, scorched arms and legs, came unbidden to him. “There were so many moments where I feared hurting you, that I might…” _that something I did would kill you_.

“Even so,” he forced himself to speak, rubbing a circle where his hand lay. “My time with you has been good for me—and I hope for you as well. I wouldn’t trade that time out for anything. I don’t know, however, that I’ve ever considered what I would do after you had grown.” Ah. There it was. “I suppose…I suppose I must have assumed you would remain with me. And I underestimated the effect it would have when you left to retrieve your body.”

There was so much more he could have said, perhaps _should_ have said. But, he reminded himself, he needed to avoid overwhelming him. He’d already told him so much just that morning, and he was certain he was still processing that even if he had made up his mind not to hate him for it. Now with this on top of that, he could already see him struggling with what to make of it.

“Then…” he spoke slowly, as if feeling out the words before using them. “I should stay?”

“I think that’s up to you to decide.” If he hadn’t given him a choice when he’d told him to retrieve his body, then the least he could do was give him one now.

At that statement, his frown deepened and he looked away.

“You don’t have to know what you’ll do right now,” he assured him. How could he demand that of him, when he didn’t even know what _he_ would do?

“Mm.” Hyakkimaru shifted to press harder into his hand, and they stayed in that position for a few moments longer.

“Hyakkimaru?” Jukai ventured.

“Mm?”

“Do you want to go back home for today?” It had been a lot for him to take in. He didn’t need his son pushing himself because he thought it was what he was supposed to do.

“…With you?”

When he didn’t answer right away, Hyakkimaru shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Stay with you.”

A bundle of nerves he hadn’t even realized were there released. What made this so important for him? “Very well,” he sighed, standing and lifting his son with him. “But I will be keeping an eye on you. If I think you’re wearing yourself out, then we’ll head back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mother-hen mode has been reactivated! Which has actually been the most challenging part of writing this chapter, with Jukai trying to figure out just how much of his situation Hyakkimaru needs to know and how much he can take before going into information overload, but also trying to predict just how he's going to react to specific details that might relate to himself, and how to mitigate that without putting the wrong idea in his head.
> 
> (Though I actually envisioned Hyakkimaru's pointing to himself in that conversation as a semi-sarcastic, "What, you mean me?")
> 
> I'm kind of excited to have gotten to write the second part of this chapter in particular, despite or even because of the challenge, but also because it's finally given me a place to start setting up something else I've wanted to explore since episodes 15-21 aired. The idea of why he wants a body, but not in a context of putting him on the spot in a situation where he won't really be allowed to explain. But before getting too deep into that, I wanted to address some of the stuff around Jukai's character and situation which didn't make it into the last chapter. Even if there's this other stuff I want to explore, I didn't want to sideline Jukai over it.
> 
> On a different note, some of the stuff around Hyakkimaru's childhood and not liking to go into his home village is inspired by fetuscakes's "San'nin" and "Familiar and Unfamiliar." He may be fine in other places, noise level pending, but that one is not a preferred one for him.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin

**Author's Note:**

> While I had hoped to finish the entire story before posting, I really wanted to get one last crack at everything before episode 21 got out. While I would love something like the kinds of AUs people here make with them, I have a sneaking suspicion we're going to have to settle for something like what happens in Blood Will Tell, but with much less audience sympathy for Daigo.
> 
> I've had bits and pieces of this one churning around in my head since I finished Your Place in the Group and altered the dialogue at the end to include the reference to episode 17, but I wasn't entirely sure of what I wanted it to be until I started writing last Wednesday. And to be honest, I will probably continue to tweak my word choices and sentence structures as I go.
> 
> In any event, please let me know what you think!  
> ~Rin


End file.
